an answer, that is. It might not be the one you wanted to hear because let’s admit it; we seldom ask questions we don’t know or want the answers to. Especially the existential kind. Even with the academic kind, we’re hoping that we don’t have to be in situations where algebraic equations or doing a syntax analysis of a “complex” sentence is a regular staple.
But we do end up asking the all important, inevitable question from time to time viz WHY ME?
And the universe answers. Even with those implicit questions which you kept inside your head and hadn’t voiced out. Take my case for example. I was planning that today, Friday, was going to be the Friday that would define how the rest of the Fridays were going to be in 2016 or at least for the first half of the year. I was going to be a human whirlwind (because the position of human hurricane has been filled for the last 5+ years by the offspring) and tackle the laundry, the linens, the stuff I’d normally hide stuff in closets and get the house tidy! T-I-D-Y. And then I was going to really enjoy the weekend because I’d earned it. Big time!
And what happens this morning? I put my back out. Just a sign from the universe that the untidiness is fated to linger a la Doris Riordan’s song of the same ilk. And here I am now. Playing my role as a ungainly combo of R2D2 and C-3PO (the chunky, rotunda of the former and the stiff, jerky movements of the latter). And that ladies and gents is our little nod to the Star Wars fever that’s taken over the world!
Anyhoo, getting back to moi…I guess I was (am) disappointed because today was going to be the day I zipped across town after getting the car back from the shop and not play the cliched role of a housewife binge-watching her favorite shows and grazing all day long. In properly-spaced intervals I mean. The grazing. Not the watching. That’s a continuous process.
And now I’m actually compelled to be stationary when I wanted to be bustling about.
So if we get back to where we started from viz the question we ask the Universe in an utterly vexed fashion, “why me?” it’s not difficult at all to imagine the universe answer in a deep voice (James Earl Jones for the majority and Kathleen Turner for the feminists among us), “why not you?”
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